


OWL or Nothing

by SomeLadyOnTheInternet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Slytherin who just wants to pass her OWLs, Also getting rid of Umbridge's special quills, Study group that doesn't break the rules, following the letter of the rules of not the spirit of them, four friends from four Houses, who isn't a self-righteous pureblood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-01-20 23:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21290189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeLadyOnTheInternet/pseuds/SomeLadyOnTheInternet
Summary: Umbridge wants to assert Ministry control in Hogwarts.  Harry Potter wants everyone to believe in the truth about Voldemort coming back.Fawn Spirea just wants to pass all of her O.W.L.s.An AU of sorts to the fifth book, featuring students who solve injustice and avoid breaking rules
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

OWL or Nothing

Chapter One

“… now, please open your books to page 5, Chapter One, ‘Basics for Beginners’,” Professor Umbridge beamed insincerely. “There will be no need to talk.”

Fawn looked around at her fellow Slytherins. They were all following directions and taking out their books. Many had smiles. Some of those smiles seemed smug, like Draco Malfoy’s. This was a class in which it would be easy to excel. Others were smiling not as smugly, but a little more broadly. This was a class which allowed for success even for those who struggled with Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was clear that everyone was very happy for how classes would be run under their new Professor.

“Is there a problem, Miss…?” Umbridge trailed off, staring at Fawn. Fawn almost jumped in her seat, but managed to maintain composure at the last second. Showing anything that indicated a lack of control was a weakness and a mistake in Slytherin.

“Fawn Spirea, Professor. Forgive my delay, I shall begin reading immediately.” Umbridge gave her a simpering look as Fawn took out her book.

While Fawn stared at the book and read the words, she did not absorb any of the words. She was too overwhelmed with bewilderment and all of the thoughts running through her head. If this first class was anything to go by, they would be reading every day and never lifting their wands. She doubted they would even be writing any essays on the material. If Umbridge was going to have books teach them instead of doing so herself, she certainly would not bother to grade anything.

This was absurd. Their first time doing any of these spells or applying any of these principles would be during their O.W.L. practicals- when they were exhausted from studying and tests, and they were nervous about their futures being on the line. 

Fawn knew that in order to become a proper magizoologist, she needed to get her N.E.W.T. in Defense Against the Dark Arts (especially when considering the hostile Dark creatures she’d encounter), and she needed her O.W.L. in the subject to make that happen. Heck, almost everyone would need at least an O.W.L. in Defense Against the Dark Arts for plenty of careers; it was a core subject! The only way one wouldn’t need one would be if they were some sort of blueblood living off inheritance, or run a pub or something.

This betrayed everything she understood Hogwarts to be built upon, and everything the founders wanted the school to be.

Fawn knew she would not let it stand.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“… and I don’t know about all of you, but I just don’t think it makes any sense whatsoever,” Fawn finished. She and her three friends, Gwyar, Aife, and Chip had met up in the library to work on their homework from their first set of classes together. They had already gotten a few dirty looks from Madam Pince for talking a little too loudly, though she had brightened up considerably when Gwyar took her aside and asked about academic journals with articles about magical education and spell theory.

“Oh, I could not agree more,” Gwyar added. He scanned the book in front of him and diligently copied out a quote. “You’re absolutely right about Umbridge- I dunno how in Merlin’s beard she plans to grade us on sitting there and reading a textbook. Attendance? All of Ravenclaw spent almost a quarter of class time trying to make her understand before she threatened to take all our points away.” He shook his head and crossed something out on his parchment.

“I’m surprised you gave up, Goo. I can count the arguments I’ve won against you on one hand. All the other times I’ve just given in because you annoyed me too much.” Aife made a few more idle lines on her Bowtruckle sketch.

Fawn peered over her shoulder. “More shading there,” she pointed. “The texture is a lot like tree bark, so it can camouflage itself in its habitat. Its preferred method of attack is ambush, whenever possible.”

Gwyar rolled his eyes and gave a good-natured snort. “Thanks, E. And I haven’t given up- why do you think I have all these?” He gestured to the small fort of books around him. “I’m writing up a… I guess it’s a persuasive essay? I’m basically putting all the research and data explaining why the structure and arrangement of our classes need to change. Solid evidence that students have done better through a unit of guided instruction accompanying their readings rather than through readings alone, detail on how a solid understanding of magical theory is correlation but not causation for a successful first casting of any given spell, that kind of thing. I’m sure that once she is presented with logical reasoning and concrete facts-”

“Gwyar that’s a bad idea,” Chip interrupted. “Think about it: people don’t generally like being handed an essay detailing exactly how wrong they are. Seriously, throw it out.”

“But-” Gwyar pouted.

“No, he’s right. You should’ve seen how mental everyone went in our class,” Aife chimed in. “To be honest, I’m surprised Potter was the only one who got a detention out of it, though then again, he was the only one to mention You-Know-Who and how we need to defend ourselves against him.”

“Yeah, what’s your take on that, Fawn?” asked Chip. He scrawled a sentence about the giant wars onto the parchment in front of him. “E and I were talking about it over the summer. I mean, something always happens with him at the end of a year, but I don’t think he goes out to cause anything- doubt that he’d lie about a terrorist for attention. I’m not sure I trust the Prophet. The owls are generally pretty truthful when I can get a chat out of them, and last time Anchor delivered the paper, he mentioned something about the Editor-in-Chief getting some extra galleons from someone every time a story makes another Potter remark.”

“In short, Potter’s probably right and the Ministry is corrupt,” added Aife. “Though what government isn’t?”

Fawn shrugged. “Whether He-Who-Must-Commit-Genocide is back or not isn’t really what I care about. I just know Potter’s right about one thing- even if it’s not one specific Dark Lord, he’s not going to be the last. There are going to be Dark witches and wizards out in the real world- if there weren’t, we wouldn’t have Aurors or Azkaban anymore. There’s going to be more at some point, and everyone needs to know how to fight back when they try to rise up. Because they will, since humans can generally be pretty bloody awful.”

Chip gave her a friendly poke with his elbow. “Not all of them, though.”

Fawn gave him a small smile in return. “No, I suppose not all of them.”

“We’re getting off-topic,” Aife pointed out. “The real question isn’t whether Defense Against the Dark Arts is a useful subject or not. What we need to focus on is how we’re probably not going to pass our O.W.L.s at this rate and what we’re going to do about it.”

Fawn rubbed her chin. “Remember that Dueling Club that Lockhart tried to start back in second year? I dunno if anyone would be interested, but we could try to start it up again.”

Chip snorted. “We’d need a club advisor. If Umbridge isn’t allowing wands in class, I doubt she’d be okay to start a group allowing magic out of class.”

“So we find someone else,” said Aife. “The only question is who.”

“You could try Flitwick,” said Gwyar. He flicked through a few more pages of _Studies in Wizarding Education, Volume 23_. “But Umbridge might take offense to the fact that you didn’t speak to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor about a school group relating to that very subject. Might see that as you thinking that someone else is more qualified than she is.”

“My _mum_ is more qualified than she is,” grumbled Aife. She crossed her arms. “Actual Auror, actual expert in what we’re supposed to be doing.”

“Yeah, Lois would be a way better professor. She’s always such a big help on our summer homework,” said Chip.

Aife jerked her head up from her Bowtruckle drawing, eyes widening. “I just realized, what if Umbridge is doing the same thing to the other years that she’s doing to us? We at least have several previous years’ work to build off of with this whole ‘independent study’ nonsense.”

“Those poor first years,” Gwyar shook his head in sympathy. “They’ll come out not knowing a thing.”

“All the more reason for us to start a Dueling Club,” Chip nodded firmly. “At the very least, constant defeat and observation of upperclassmen could still help them learn something.”

“You’re welcome to try,” said Gwyar, dipping his quill in some more ink. “Can you just let me try my plan first?”

“Gwyar-” sighed Fawn.

“Please. A week or two so I can finish this, then try to see how things improve. I think we should try appealing to Umbridge’s rationality before going with something more drastic. I’m good at changing minds. A well-researched argument will definitely bring Umbridge to act!”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gwyar watched the students putting their books away at the end of class. Quickly, he put away his own book and took out a rather large stack of parchment, grinning.

It had taken him eight days. Many late nights and early mornings had been spent compiling quotes and drafting and rewriting. Madam Pince had woken him up in the library twice after he’d fallen asleep on top of his work. (He did not care what she seemed to think, he was _not_ drooling all over precious books and documents when he got too tired to keep his head up.) This was his masterpiece, his magnum opus. He had begged a seventh year to teach him how to create a copy so he could still keep his work even after presenting it to Umbridge. Gwyar knew he wanted to go into potion research after graduation, but hey, he wouldn’t mind publishing his paper if he could find an interested party. 

Gwyar walked up to Umbridge’s desk and waited both for her attention and for the other students to filter out. She pointedly did not look at him for several minutes, waiting for him to move along to his next class so he wouldn’t be late. Lucky for him, he had a study period next, so he had plenty of time to talk to his professor. 

When it was clear that no matter how long she waited, he was not going away, Umbridge finally addressed him. 

“If you don’t leave now, you will be late for your next class, Mr. Cook,” she gave him a polite smile.

This only made Gwyar’s smile wider as he replied, “Actually, I have a free period next, and I was hoping to use it talking to you, but I thank you for your concern. Are you available right now? I can’t speak for your own hours, of course, but I know that other Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors often had office hours around now.”

“Yes, I am free to speak with you. I know that you and your fellow Ravenclaws were… hesitant about the curriculum, no doubt due to the gaps left in your education by my predecessors, but I am happy to see how nicely everyone has settled in!” She folded her hands and rested them on her desk.

“Well, Professor, I too am glad that we have had plenty of time to review the theory and fundamentals of Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I am concerned about when we are going to apply this knowledge-”

“I was very clear in our course aims at the start of the semester, Mr. Cook,” interrupted Umbridge, her smile fading. “There will be no need to use any defensive spells in my classroom, as you will not be in any danger here.”

“I agree with the lack of danger, Professor, however-”

“Excellent, then if we are in agreement I see no need to continue this silly discussion.”

“_However,_” Gwyar repeated, a little more loudly. “We need time to practice applying the material in class, in a safe environment, before we do so on our O.W.L.s when we can slip up due to nerves or exhaustion and the slightest mistake could cost us our futures.”

“Nonsense,” Umbridge sniffed. “As long as you review the theory and understand the material, you should have no issues at all.”

“Actually, we still shall even if that is the case, Professor, and I have proof.” Gwyar dropped his essay on Umbridge’s desk, facing her, and it landed with a solid, heavy _fwump_. “I compiled research relating to spell theory and studies pertaining to magical education. If you will notice on page 7, I reference the study conducted by Ravenclaw et al. , which shows that previously unattempted spells are typically cast correctly on the very first try only seven percent of the time. Taking this into account, the practical section of the O.W.L. involves roughly eighty spells, assuming my conferences with older students about this are correct and assuming the test remains the same and no material is changed from previous years. Assuming the test is split between years equally, we this means we would likely cast forty new spells and only get five or six of them right. At the highest, a student would score an Acceptable on the practical, and this is not even taking into account the written exam and the fact that the scores are averaged means that a student would have to score perfectly on the written to even _get_ an E, which most professors require at minimum to pursue the subject as a N.E.W.T. –”

“Mr. Cook-” Umbridge tried to interrupt, but Gwyar was speaking so quickly and passionately that he didn’t hear her.

“-this is, of course, dealing with scores when thinking of an individual, but looking at Ravenclaw et. al’s study based on who even received perfect initial casts, it was roughly three percent of her group. Granted, their study was conducted with a smaller group of students but assuming the same ratio still holds, that means that only four or five students would even receive that E-”

“Mr. Cook-” Umbridge spoke louder, but Gwyar still didn’t hear her.

“-but don’t worry, if the class structure is changed to allow for proper amounts of time for guided instruction where you guide everyone’s practice, I am certain that those numbers would change significantly. There was a lovely study done in France about thirty years ago, though I understand that there might be a margin of error since they use slightly different tests and I’m not really sure they had an ‘A’ equivalent at the time, which is rather silly as that means they had three failing grades and two passing between the options-”

“_SILENCIO!_” With a wave of Umbridge’s wand, Gwyar fell silent. “Now, Mr. Cook, I expect you to listen to what I have to say. Can I trust you to do so?”

He nodded.

“Good,” she replied. “Despite what you might think you know or can find out in some dusty old book, you are not qualified to make any decisions about how my classes are run. Wizards that are much older, wiser, and altogether cleverer than you have designed our course of study based on the principals of learning in a secure, risk-free environment. This class’s purpose is to get you through your examination, and our curriculum as it currently stands is more than capable of that very task.” She leaned forward. “Are we clear? Nod if you understand.”

Gwyar shook his head and pointed at his stack of parchment. He had the evidence that things could be improved right there in front of him. Why wasn’t she looking at it? Why wasn’t she listening?

“_Evanesco,_” Gwyar watched in horror as Umbridge vanished the stack of parchment in front of her. “That –_thing_\- that you wrote has no reason to exist. Run along before I give you a detention for disrespect and wasting both of our time.”

Gwyar stood there in horror, staring at the empty spot on the desk where the pride of over a week’s work once sat.

“_Now_, Mr. Cook.”

He shook his head in disbelief. Nothing made sense. Things could be better. Why wouldn’t she let things be better? He was showing her using the words of wizards that were, “older, wiser, and altogether cleverer” and she refused to hear anything out. His chest felt heavy, like he had just woken up from a nightmare.

“Detention,” Umbridge leaned back proudly in her chair. “I will see you tonight at five o’clock.”


End file.
